


Reaching Out

by coping_with_septiplier



Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Anxiety, Depression, Gen, M/M, Platonic Septiplier, Septiplier - Freeform, Suicidal Thoughts, i mean really this could be taken as entirely platonic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-23
Updated: 2017-01-23
Packaged: 2018-09-19 08:15:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,249
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9429461
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coping_with_septiplier/pseuds/coping_with_septiplier
Summary: Just another night alone, struggling to work through the thoughts crushing him like weights. Sean needs a friend, which means he needs to confess exactly what those thoughts are leading to. He has to let his friend in.





	

Sean hesitated, bit his lip in apprehension as he considered calling the hotline. He closed his eyes, worrying his bottom lip between his teeth, just needing a distraction from the silence. Blue eyes opened, looked down at his cell phone screen as he debated. He just wanted to die.

His right thumb hovered over the number labeled  _Suicide Hotline_. Well, not quite. He wanted to _stop feeling like_ he wanted to die. It was all jumbled, too complicated--a mess in his mind which he wasn't really sure how to undo. Self-doubt and self-hate had been building up inside Sean for so long, and...he didn't feel worthy to be praised by all those people watching his videos. None of it made  _sense._  He...he felt like he was lying to them.

After all, what kind of a hypocrite was he? Telling his viewers to talk to someone, that they weren't alone, if they were going through depression or anything similar. And here he was, barely holding on each day.

Shaking his head, Sean scrolled down, pressing a different contact name. Mark always made him feel better.

It was only after the dial tone started up that he realized he should have tried calculating the time zone difference before calling. Although, being 3AM in Ireland, it was probably safe to say Mark was awake.

There was an answer on the third ring, and suddenly Sean felt like the floor had been ripped out from under him.  _No. No, no, no, what are you **doing**?_

_"Hey, Jack?"_ Mark sounded a bit puzzled but not unhappy with the call.

Sean swallowed again, bit his lip harder. It took him a moment to find his voice. "Hi..."

_"Are you okay?"_   The question was...well, it wasn't really that hard of a question. Or, it shouldn't have been. Mark sounded casual, yet concern tinted his voice.  _Of course he's worried--you're calling him without context or explanation, and you're not even saying anything. Why would you make him worry like that; what's wrong with you?_

"I...um." For once, Sean was at a loss for words. "No, not--not really, Mark. I..."

He heard rustling, like Mark was shifting positions urgently.  _"What's going on?"_

Sean bit down hard; he tasted blood on his tongue. His heart began to pound wildly and he considered hanging up the call--but how would he explain this? It was too late to go back. The green-haired man looked down at the belt in his lap, remembering the reason for his call. "I--I don't...I can't...Mark?" Sean felt like he was floundering, trying to find something to hold onto.

_"I'm right here, Sean,"_ Mark soothed,  _"Just tell me what's wrong so I can help you?"_

A pause. Sean breathed deeply, looking up in the direction of his ceiling, which he could hardly really see in the dark room. "Mark, I need someone. I'm..."  _I'm on the verge of hanging myself._

Mark exhaled loudly.  _"Hey, talk to me."_

"I've been suicidal."

Dead silence. Sean felt a white hot panic in his chest.

"I-I just, I can't get these _thoughts_ out of my head. I want to die--I feel like I'm a waste of space and the only reason anyone puts up with me is because of--of...I don't know, pity? I can't--" Sean cut himself off, choking on his words.

_"You're not alone, Sean,"_ Mark said in a firm compassionate tone,  _"Please know that. We all love you, and no one sees you as a burden or anything like that."_ Sean hated how his friend sounded choked up.  _This is all your fault--you shouldn't have bothered him._

"I'm sorry," Sean felt slip out of his mouth, and he could feel tears beginning to well up again--and he'd thought he was all dried out, after he'd cried until his stomach was in pain, but now he was starting to sob embarrassingly. "I-I know those things, in my head, but--I'm so sorry."

_"It's okay. You're okay. What are you doing right now?"_ Mark asked, softly but firmly, as if he wasn't going to let Sean avoid the question, as though it were the most important question of his life.

"I'm...uh," Sean closed his eyes once again. How could he answer that? "Just sitting in my room, really. I'm not..." He took a deep breath in an attempt to gain some composure. "Yeah, 'm just sitting in the dark."

_"Turn on a light."_

Sean hesitated for a moment before slowly, he moved to the light switch and flicked it on, squinting as the light made his head hurt. He swallowed. "Now what?" he asked quietly as he returned to his bed, folding his legs underneath himself.

Mark was silent for a moment before he answered,  _"Get a drink of water, maybe step outside for a moment?"_ he sounded a little unsure but the strength never left his voice. _"And then...just tell me what you need from me."_

After a quiet moment of willing himself to take Mark's advice, Sean stood again. "Really, Mark? I just sat back down," he joked with teary laughter.

There was the hint of a smile in Mark's voice as he replied,  _"Serves you right for scaring me to death, Jackaboy."_

Sean only hummed in reply as he moved about his house, downing a small glass of water and taking a moment to breathe, the phone tucked between his shoulder and his ear. He opted against the trip outside because--well, it was freezing out, and Sean just didn't quite have the energy. His mind felt a little clearer, although his head was pounding unforgivingly, reminding him of his crying fit.

"Mark? Thank you." His lack of sleep was finally beginning to catch up with him; his eyelids felt heavy and he really just wanted to lie down. He made his way back to his room, turning off his light once again before settling into his bed.

_"No problem, Jack."_ Sean could practically hear Mark smile in relief.  _"You sound better already."_

Sean was nodding off, and he closed his eyes as he said, "Yeah. Thanks to you. I really..." He yawned. "Really needed a talk with a friend."

_"Any time you need me, okay? I might not always pick up but I will always get back to you."_ Mark chuckled as Sean let out another yawn.  _"Someone stayed up way past bedtime."_

Sean laughed softly into the phone. "I'm gonna be so exhausted in the mornin'. Night, Mark."

_"Night, Jack._ "

What Sean appreciated most was probably that Mark stayed on the line until Sean began to snore lightly, even though the Irishman hadn't even asked. He'd wake up around noon with his phone basically stuck to his face, taking a moment to remember the previous night's events. When he did, he'd feel a little nervous as he texted Mark a thank you, and he'd smile as Mark sent him a meaningful reply disguised as a lighthearted joke. He'd hang up the belt that had fallen onto his floor and record three new videos, goofy grin in place despite the tiredness in his eyes. Things wouldn't be fixed, but it would be a better day, and maybe that was good enough for him, at least for a little while.

But for now, Sean could just breathe in and out, heart heavy and warm, blissfully free from his worries for a few hours as he floated in a dreamless sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> I don't mean any offense or to imply anything about the real Mark and Jack. I just need to state that. I'm pretty much just writing them as characters to cope with my issues.
> 
> Something about the writing in this doesn't feel quite deep enough; if anyone's willing to be a beta for me in the future that'd be great. (Before anyone asks, I don't swear, so if anything I write ever feels off because of /that/, sorry.)
> 
> I've been struggling with suicidal thoughts and I guess Jack's just easy to project my feelings onto. Poor Irish babe.
> 
> Also, Google tells me the time difference is eight hours.


End file.
